


Meeting Point

by kastron (decidueye)



Category: Leverage, The A-Team (2010)
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-03 03:07:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2835737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/decidueye/pseuds/kastron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nate and Hannibal are too similar for their own good, and Face has always been a bit of a Sophie fanboy. [reworking of the start of the Two Live Crew Job]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meeting Point

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mpatientdreamr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mpatientdreamr/gifts).



> happy holidays, impatient-dream! i have a weakness for crossovers so i had to jump on this part of your request. i hope you like it!

“So, you’re saying you want us to steal a Klimt - from North, whose office is impenetrable no less - and give it back to a couple who _don’t even know that we’re stealing it?_ ” Face stared Hannibal down from where he was sitting on the motel sofa. “How exactly are we going to benefit from that?”

Hannibal waved his hand dismissively. “It’ll be fine, Face, relax. I’ve checked up on the Mercers, they’ve been searching for this for 70 years and they’re desperate. Sure they don’t have the money to take North to court, but there’s bound to be a reward.”

”Besides,” Murdock added from where he was curled up in an armchair, shaking a photo of the couple in Face’s direction. “Look at their faces! You can’t say ‘no’ to that.”

BA groaned, shaking his head and getting to his feet. “It’s no use, Face, once they’ve got an idea in their head they ain’t never going to let it go,” he said, stretching before heading for the door, grabbing the keys. “I’ll get the van ready; it’s a long drive to Boston.”

* * *

 

Murdock whistled as he mopped the floor, pushing the janitor’s cart in front of him with his toes. He’d cased the joint this morning, and when Face walked through the elevator he winked broadly.

”Good morning, sir!”

He chirped, going for a British accent. Face just rolled his eyes and breeze past him, hoping that Murdock would at least keep the accent consistent.

Face leaned over the counter, flashing the receptionist his best smile. “Come on, I’m sure it’s okay to let me through. I’ve got the email here that says it’s fine.” He pushed his tablet towards her. The receptionist flushed, barely glancing at the email Face had painstakingly forged - a waste, really.

”Mr. North is out of town, though, I really shouldn’t agree to this without calling him.”

”We already agreed! It’s a routine inspection, nothing more. I’ll give him a glowing report and then we can celebrate with a few drinks after, how about it? What time do you finish?”

It took a couple more tries, but eventually Face got past the Receptionist with a key card and a phone number, grinning to himself as he sailed down the corridor. North’s office wasn’t difficult to locate, and he stood outside it for a second, sighing before letting himself into the room next door.

“It still feels like cheating, to be honest,” he said into the comms, and heard BA snort.

”Since when did you care about cheating?” BA asked, and Face shrugged.

”That’s…a fair point.”

Face got himself settled in the room, setting down his briefcase and pulling out the tools he’d need to cut into the wall. It had been a job to carry them by himself, but Murdock was waiting down the corridor with the magnets and he needed to be mostly done before his partner arrived. He set to work at the wall with a sharp cutting knife and a drill; honestly, for all the security North had put in place in his own office, the walls in large company buildings were always really flimsy.

”Uh, Faceman…” Murdock’s southern drawl cut into his concentration, and that’s how he knew they were in trouble. “We’ve got a problem, Houston.”

Face waited a couple of seconds to see if he would expand, tapping his feet impatiently, “What is it?”

”The FBI is here.”

Face tried to ignore the sudden spike in his adrenaline levels. _Damn law enforcement types! What the hell are they doing here?_ They hadn’t done a lot of research on North the man prior to coming in here, but he didn’t remember seeing anything that might point to the FBI showing up on this particular date.

“Okay - we just need to push the timetable. Get into position.” Picking up the first tool he’d need, Face spun towards their prize. “Ah, hell.”

* * *

 

”I knew that janitor looked suspicious,” Nate said as the team regrouped at the van - their attempt to make off with the Klimt thwarted. “It takes talent to spend that much time in one spot and leave it dirtier than when you got there.”

Sophie was predictably outraged about the artwork. “Dogs playing poker? That’s just...offensive.”

”Really?” Parker asked. “I was going to steal it anyway for the office.”

They all tried to ignore the implications of that, although Nate had to admire Sophie’s attempts to hide her full-body shudder. “Anything?” he asked Hardison. The hacker had gone immediately for his seat in the back of the van, checking his recording of the office’s various security feeds for where they might have gone wrong.

”Hold it,” Eliot said from his position over Hardison’s shoulder. He jabbed a finger at the monitor. “That guy. I know that guy.”

They all stared at the hitter for a moment, then when no further information was forthcoming Hardison said, “Let’s see what facial recognition has to say about our mystery guy.”

The computer didn’t take long to flash up warning signs after Hardison enhanced the image; files from Interpol, the CIA, and about fifteen international security organisations flooded the screen, culminating in US Military records stamped with a red ‘DISHONORABLY DISCHARGED 2010’.

”First lieutenant Templeton Peck…” Nate read aloud, “Ring any bells, Eliot?”

”Yeah,” Eliot replied through gritted teeth. “I was hired by the military a couple of times out in Afghanistan. We’ve had more than a few run ins - he was infamous even before he got discharged. No clue what happened to him afterwards.”

”According to this, he’s been busy,” Hardison commented, clicking through each of the files. “Escaped _en route_ to prison with four other officers and they’ve been looking for them ever since. Left a trail of thefts and a couple of mysterious disappearances in their wake. Says here he’s a conman, alias ‘Face’.”

”That’s a name _I’ve_ heard of,” Sophie interrupted. “He’s pulled off some spectacular forgeries in his time - art’s probably just his style, too.”

Nate frowned, running a hand through his hair. “Can you pull up copies of the other officer’s records, Hardison?”

”Sure. They’re not even classified - they must want to catch these guys really bad.” Four more pictures flashed on the screen - all of the men were dressed in military uniforms, all stamped ‘DISHONORABLY DISCHARGED’, and Nate recognised the Janitor instantly, despite the fact that his hair had grown since the picture was taken.

”That’s the other one,” he said, pointing. “They’re obviously working as a team. Think this Face is the ringleader?”

”Unlikely,” Eliot snorted, gesturing to the older man that was depicted. “That’s Hannibal Smith. Face rode with him in the green berets, too, and...man, I think his plans were even crazier than yours, Nate.”

The whole team inhaled sharply and Nate rolled his eyes. “Moving on…Now that we know who they are, how are we going to find them?”

* * *

 

It didn’t take long for Face to recognise Sophie Devereaux as one of the ‘FBI Agents’ who’d beat them to the Klimt; he’d been following her career, regarded her as one of the ‘heroes’ of con artistry, and if it wasn’t for the way Hannibal was glaring into his coffee like it was poisonous he’d probably be okay with losing to her.

”They’re team’s pretty well known in the area for this sort of thing…” Face began, and Hannibal grunted. “It’s not that surprising really. Besides, we don’t exactly lay low with that van, so they probably noticed our arrival and sped things up a bit.”

”We should have anticipated it,” Hannibal replied. “That office is impenetrable; no one should be able to hack it.”

”They’re hacker’s kind of hardcore, though,” BA interjected from where he was leaning against the bed on his laptop. “He hacked into the White House email in just three days - he’s got some skills.”

”I just need to know _how_ ,” Hannibal said, restless, and BA shrugged, clicking through links.

”Well, it looks like they’re based here,” he said, pointing to an obscure forum post. “Rumour has it if you hang out at some bar downtown there’s some ‘man-with-a-plan’ type who’ll help you out in a sticky situation.”

Murdock grinned. “Our situations kinda stick, boss, don’t you think?”

* * *

 

”Where’s our painting?”

Hannibal and Nate sat across from each other in a booth at _John McRory’s_ , staring each other down. They spoke at the same time, and beside them, their nominated representatives - Face and Eliot, because they knew each other, even if they weren’t on the best of terms - swallowed thickly.

”You don’t have it?” Nate asked after a pause, and Hannibal leaned back in his seat, taking a long drink of his beer and smirking.

”Looks like we’ve both been outfoxed,” Hannibal said, barking out a laugh. “Question is, who’s going to get to the next team first?”

”Hannibal…” Face began, hesitant, “Don’t you think in this situation it might be best to compare notes? We didn’t identify anyone else who could have been there to steal the painting.”

Hannibal looked at him sharply. “You don’t think we can find them ourselves?”

”I’m just saying, if they can outcon Sophie Devereaux…Speaking of, where is she?” he asked, a little too eagerly if the glare Eliot sent his way was anything to go by. “I’m a fan, that’s all.”

The sound of Nate’s phone ringing and Parker’s loud, panicked tones interrupted any reply that might have come. Nate hesitated, listening to what Parker was saying before looking at the people sitting in front of him.

”You’ve got experience in high pressure situations, right?” He asked, and Hannibal nodded. “Good. Bring your team upstairs, something more important has happened.”

* * *

 

Disarming a motion-sensitive bomb was a bonding experience, as it turns out. Murdock and Parker suggested pudding simultaneously, and BA’s mechanical knowledge and surprisingly delicate fingers were enough to win the situation, and when Sophie sat down shakily on the couch, free from the fear of exploding, Face shared a relieved smile with Eliot.

”I’m guessing that wasn’t you?” Nate asked, still hostile, and Hannibal held up his hands in defence.

”Trust me, that’s not my style,” he replied, “but I’m starting to really want to get the bastard who got to this painting first.”

”We agree there at least,” Nate commented, “Let me take a look at your surveillance.”

Hardison hooked BA’s laptop up to the monitors, and both teams watched the footage in silence. He’d managed to get different angles from Hardison, including one of a dark haired man in a long grey coat stepping into an elevator. Sophie gasped, jumping up on still shaking knees and pointing.

”Starke!” She exclaimed, and everyone looked to her.

”You know him?” Face asked, and then his eyes widened. He leaned forward, eager. “Don’t tell me he was your partner for the Copenhagen Job in ‘97?”

”The very same.” Sophie answered, expression grim. There was a moment’s pause, and then Hannibal stepped up to Nate, sizing him up. Face waited, and the whole room felt tense.

”So, we have a target,” he began. “How about we get focused on taking him down?”

Nate grinned, taking Hannibal’s outstretched hand, “I love it when a plan comes together.”


End file.
